My Garmin spits out a verdict on “elevation gained” for every run. A rollicking 7-mile trail run in the woods of Kentucky last week? 776 feet. A 5k jaunt up the ski slopes last fall on Windham Mountain? 1550 feet. This morning’s 4-miler through the blizzard in the flats of …
When I packed my comically oversize backpack for a three-week trip to New Zealand last month, there was one notable omission: my running shoes. Since I first took to this dastardly hobby six years ago, I rarely travel without my trusty sneakers. I’ve run on vacation in the Luxembourg Garden …
I’m currently in a running funk—and by funk I mean severely out of shape. Credit a few stressful work weeks (which inevitably extends to stress eating), more than a couple trips to my homeland, Illinois, and my refusal to pull myself away from watching baseball (God bless its return). But …
